


what else (if not fate)

by Noa



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Feelings, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Requested fic, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noa/pseuds/Noa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We are kindred spirits, fate intends for us to find comfort in each other’s company.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	what else (if not fate)

It’s late. What little moonlight filters through the cloth roof of Laslow’s tent sits on his skin like a cold dew, and Odin can’t sleep.

“Hey, Laslow,” he whispers.

“Mm?” Laslow emerges from sheets he had pulled up to his nose.

“Don’t you ever ask Selena to keep you company like this?” Laslow jerks like he got startled out of his skin.

“O-of course not!” he sputters, inching back a little to create more space between him and Odin. “I can’t ask a girl to share my bed! Oh Gods, that would be so embarrassing…”

Odin frowns at him, watches his cheeks go pink and then decides that his explanation makes sense. Sort of. They slept together all the time while travelling to Nohr, three tired no-longer-teens draped around a dying fire to keep the chill away – why would it be any different now?

At the same time, Odin thinks he understands. Selena doesn’t quite remind him of home the way Laslow does. She is strong, beautiful and one of the best friends he could ever ask for, but she doesn’t smell like lilies and she doesn’t move like dandelion feathers in a Summer breeze. Maybe Laslow felt the same about him. He ducks his head further underneath their shared blankets and tries not to dwell on that thought.

“…Do you mind?” Laslow’s voice pipes up. “This, I mean.”

Odin glances at him. He’s staring up like he’s daydreaming, except that it’s nighttime.

“No?" Odin answers carefully. Then, feeling awkward about his one-word reply, "We are kindred spirits, fate intends for us to find comfort in each other’s company.”

Laslow chuckles at that, wipes his bangs from his face with a heavy sigh. Odin expects him to talk about home again, like he often does during nights like these, until his sadness lulls him to sleep.

“Fate,” Laslow says instead. He hums. “I wonder.”

“You wonder… what?”

“If it’s truly fate,” Laslow looks over to Odin, a small smile tugging at his rose-petal lips. “And not my selfishness.”

“What?” Odin asks again. “Selfishness?”

“You don’t think it’s selfish? That I ask you to come here as often as I do," Laslow replies, but Odin’s confusion stays.

“Desiring restful nights is not something I would call selfish," he says. Laslow smiles again.

“Perhaps not," he then says quietly. “If that were all I desired.”

*

“Wouldn’t I be just as selfish?”

It’s a new night, a new fight with insomnia, but it is still Odin who nudges at the silence first.

“Hmm?”

“Taking half of your space as my own, just to still the darkness in me?” Odin continues, “that’s selfish too, is it not?” He doesn’t have to explain what he’s talking about.

Laslow thinks for a moment.

“Is that it?” he then says.

“…Is what it?”

“Stilling the darkness,” Laslow clarifies. “Is that why you’re here?”

Now it’s Odin’s turn to think.

“Well, yes," he says carefully, unsure if it’s the right answer. Laslow shuffles a bit closer and Odin thinks he should probably start bringing his own blankets. (He’s thought that many times, but never once has he quite managed to remember when it mattered.) Laslow looks him dead in the eye and even in the sparse light of a moonless night, Odin sees the silver vines winding around his pupils.

“Is that the only reason you’re here,” Laslow asks again. Odin blinks. Laslow casts his eyes down, and Odin could swear the sigh he hears sounds disappointed. “Never mind. Please forget I said anything, alright? Sweet dreams.”

“Uh, alright,” Odin mumbles, “you too.” He watches as Laslow turns around to sleep, and tries to do the same.

*

Odin lies awake.

“What’s troubling you,” Laslow whispers, and Odin startles to find him awake as well. “You’ve barely slept all week.” Odin grabs the top of the sheets a bit tighter, and doesn’t move. Laslow feels close behind him, and he doesn’t want to accidentally knee him in the gut turning around. It’s been kind of awkward between them recently.

“Neither have you," he counters. He feels Laslow sigh against the back of his neck.

“Yes, you've caught me.”

“Why?” Odin asks. He feels Laslow shift and wonders if it’d be safe to turn around now. He decides to take the plunge, and when he faces Laslow he finds him staring right back. He quickly averts his eyes.

“I asked first,” Laslow says matter-of-factly.

“It’s mystifying,” Odin sighs. “What aided our dreams now seems to disturb them.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Laslow asks. “Oh Gods, I don’t snore, do I? You should’ve told me -”

“At ease, Inigo," Odin laughs but Laslow freezes, and Odin belatedly realizes why.

“S-sorry," he offers, feeling stupid for slipping up like that. No one would have heard him, right? It’s late, very late, and they always keep their voices down.

“Don’t,” whispers Laslow. Odin sees his eyes soften. They seem bigger too, or maybe Laslow is just moving closer. He can’t quite read his face. “Don’t say sorry, Owain.”

Odin shivers involuntarily. Even between the two of them they hardly ever use their true names, he hadn’t expected the sound of it to affect him this much. He opens his mouth to apologize again, then stills when Laslow’s hand comes to rest gently against his cheek.

“I should be the one to apologize.”

He leans in before Odin gets the chance to ask why.

His kiss feels like rose water, soft and soothing on Odin’s lips, and his tongue tastes like moonlight. Odin stiffens for a fraction of a second before he exhales through his nose, and carefully returns Laslow’s kiss. He has no idea what he’s doing but it doesn’t matter, with every touch of their lips all his thoughts and feelings thread together, weave into a liquid warmth that seeps through to his bones and it’s unlike anything he ever felt before.

It ends right as Odin thinks he’s gotten the hang of it, their breaths mingling as they stare at each other in silence. Laslow looks just as taken off-guard as Odin does and Odin almost feels the glow of Laslow’s blush touch his skin.

“Sorry,” Laslow stammers, “I just, I, uh –”

“…Don’t," Odin says quietly, “don’t say sorry, Inigo.”

He feels Laslow shiver then too, and thinks to himself that it might not be so bad to lie awake after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Strayed way too far from the prompt with this one (why do I turn everything into romance?).


End file.
